


The Rescue Of The Screaming Man Across The Hall

by fallingforcas



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Late Night Conversations, Living In The Same Apartment Block, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 08:10:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5449499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingforcas/pseuds/fallingforcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine Person A having a nightmare in the dead of night and screaming as loud as they can and Person B rushing over from the apartment across the hall wearing next-to-nothing to see what the hell is going on</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rescue Of The Screaming Man Across The Hall

Ian had just curled up in his bed when the screaming started.

It wasn't just a scream; it was a gut-wrenching murderous scream that only existed in the movies where the slasher was determined to kill the girl.

When he searches for his mobile from underneath his pillow, he comes to realise that it's nearly three in the morning and screaming like that wasn't so usual around there. The screaming continued from what sounded was across the hall of his apartment, and it only took Ian a quick three seconds to leap out of bed and chuck on a pair of sweats.

Without his contacts he couldn't see a damn thing – never mind a axe-murderer who was roaming his apartment block apparently – so he quickly picks up his black-framed glasses and pushes them up the bridge of his nose.

The screaming stopped as soon as he reached the dark hall, and he could hear the rustling of sheets from inside the open door – that looked a little suspicious – that was opposite his. Ian didn't like the idea of someone walking into his apartment at night – unnoticed – but he also didn't like the idea of a axe-murder coming to slit his throat either. So, sucking in a deep breath he enters the strange apartment and fumbles along the walls to find a light.

It took him a short moment to find a light-switch and when the apartment finally flickers to life it all becomes clear that he sure didn't know the person who lived there.

It was basically empty; just a few unpacked boxes and dozen of beer bottles resting on a small, old coffee table in the middle of the room.

At-least this person had a fridge.

Suddenly, there's a rush of movement and Ian feels his arm being twisted around his back and a voice at the side of his neck.

“What the fuck are you doing in here? Who the fuck are you?”

In retrospect, walking into a strangers apartment unidentified, fumbling for light-switches, wearing nothing but a pair of scruffy old sweats was a stupid move.

The guy was small, Ian could tell by the way he could feel the man's body trying to reach up just to whisper in his ear. Luckily, Ian still had his training in handy and he manages to flip the position he was standing in and pushes the guy off him.

Not a stupid move.

The guy was fucking _beautiful._

All light, blue eyes, stark black hair, and a small muscular frame. 

Ian was starting to not regret his immediate reaction to be the hero for the night.

Surrendering his hands up, Ian bargains, “Hey, calm the fuck down.” The guy was breathing heavily, his chest glimmering and becoming distracting. Ian stepped back. “Hey, it's okay. I'm your neighbour. Across the hall. 4B.” 

The guy, like a spitting little dog, barrelled forward. “I don't give a shit who you are! What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?!” 

“Good question.” Ian kept his hands high. “I heard screaming and I wasn't into waking up to a dead body across the hall, and I'm not a totally horrible person so I thought I'd try and investigate. Plus, I wanted to get some sleep and the screaming was pretty-damn annoying.” 

The man scowls in disbelief, as if hiding something. “So, you broke into my apartment because you wanted to  _investigate?”_

Ian did look like an idiot. It was difficult to justify why he was standing in a random apartment, claiming to be some hero ready to face a mass-murder.

“Firstly,” Ian places his finger up, looking straight into those blue eyes that he so desperately wanted to sink into. He shakes the thought. “your door was unlocked. Not my problem.” The guy's frown deepens, making Ian feel a grin emerge. “Secondly, I wasn't just _investigating_ it sounded like someone was dying in here – can't you give a guy a little credit for wanting to rescue you?”

The brunette lets out a barking laugh, slapping his bare chest. “I don't need rescuing, Red.”

Oh, so they were already on a nickname basis. This was going better than Ian had anticipated.

Anything was better than getting caught up with an axe-murderer.

Ian hums a little, smirk at his lips. “Sure sounded like you needed a _little_ help.”

For a moment, Ian caught the guy staring down at his lips, his tongue flickering out against his own before he jolts in realisation. He barges past him, knocking his shoulder. “Haven't you got other shit to do? Like knitting fucking sweaters or get your precious beauty sleep?”

Witty and blunt – Ian liked him already.

Ian follows him, trekking towards the kitchen. He felt strangely at home in this apartment, as if he had walked these floors for years. “You know, I _could_ be doing all that if _someone_ didn't wake me up screaming bloody-fucking-murder.”

The smaller man's neck flushes, he darts around. “I wasn't fucking screaming – and why the fuck are you still here?” He shoves at Ian's chest. “Get the fuck out.”

Instead, Ian places his head out. Nothing better than a formal greeting after intruding a strangers apartment in the awful hours of the morning. “Ian.” He introduces himself.

“Ian?”

Ian rolls his eyes. This guy was ridiculous, but ridiculously cute. “Yes, Ian.” He keeps his hand firmly out and the guy doesn't take it. Fucker.

The brunette just nods, turning back around. “Whatever, man.”

Frustrated, Ian tilted his head. This guy was something new. He drops his hand. “Usually, when a person puts their hand out and introduces themselves the other person tends to shake it.” He gets nothing but a grunt in return and toned back to keep him distracted.

Ian tries again – as much as the flexing muscles were distracting him - “Okay, so you don't like people shaking your hand, totally get it.”

The brunette turns on his heel, glass of water in his hand. “I also don't like ginger haired fuckers breaking into my apartment either, but, hey, shit happens.” He barges past Ian again, his frown denting his face for how long it had been there for.

Again, Ian follows like a lost puppy. He's unsure why the hell he was still walking around the strangers apartment. Surely, he was breaking a law here. “I _didn't_ break in but I can understand your concern.” He laughs a little to himself, at his stupidity, and finally asks the question that had been on his mind since he laid eyes on the beautiful creature who happened to scream in the middle of the night.

“You going to tell me your name?”

The smaller man chuckles, shaking his head. “Now, why the fuck would I do that?”

Ian shrugs, crossing his arms. “It's only fair. I gave you mine.”

Blue eyes sipped at his drink, disagreeing. “You volunteered that information, I don't need to tell you shit. Especially not my _name.”_ Ian could sense the guy just wanted him gone – but by the way the man glanced over him it could be something different.

Scratching his head, Ian replies with a laugh, “Jesus, It's not like I'm going to rat you out on some drug deal you did two days ago. Just tell me your name.”

The guy's expression turns to shock, he places his glass down. “You know about that?”

Actually, Ian didn't. He just made a bullshit story up to be funny.

“I didn't.” Ian confirmed, again trying to justify himself. “I do now, but don't worry I won't tell a soul about it.” He pretends to zip his mouth up and the guy just rolls his eyes, giving him a gruff grunt.

The brunette bites back, “Why the fuck are you still standing here?”

“Name?”

It takes a moment until he gets his answer. The smaller boy shifts in his stance, his hand running through his dark hair. “It's Mickey, aright.”

 _Finally_ Ian can put a name to such a beautiful face. It wasn't a lie that he had seen the other man wandering the halls in the morning, always grunting, the same frown plastered against his face. It was intriguing, though, Ian had pleaded himself to just go ask but he guessed that fate wanted him to just barge into the apartment and force it out of him instead.

Ian claps his hands together, feeling satisfied. He didn't have a clue what to do from there. “Well, Mickey, good talk.” He steps back a little, trying to locate the door he had barged through just moments before. “I'll, er, just _break_ my way out of here and get back to my knitting.”

“Hey, wait -” The brunette calls out, his voice hesitant. He combs his hand over the back of his neck, and squeezing out his next words. “You want to, er, come in?”

Ian looks back at the open door behind him. “Well, I'm kinda already _in.”_

Laughing, Mickey shakes his head. “No, fuckhead. I mean, properly.” Ian just narrows his eyes, a little confused. Mickey's elaborates. “You want some coffee? Food? I have some left-over pizza from this morning that needs to fucking _go.”_

Looking at his watch, Ian chuckles, “Man, It's three AM.”

Pizza was good, sure, but Ian wasn't yet appealed to eating it at that time of night.

It was strange that the guy – who's apartment Ian sort-of broke into – was showing him hospitality.

Mickey picks up the strayed pizza box from the kitchen counter, “ _So?_ It always tastes better the next day, why not start early?” He flings the lid open, allowing Ian to see the remaining slices. “You want some or not?”

Ian can feel his stomach rumbling – even though he literally ate not long back – and he contemplates the idea. “Pizza does sound _good,_ though?”

Taking a slice, placing the tip into his mouth – Ian mind goes into over-drive and he can instantly imagine other things going into that mouth – Mickey nods, mouth full, “I'm sure your knitting can wait.”


End file.
